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“Yes. You absolutely should have.”
“The best I can promise is to try to do better, to be a better man, and to consider you in every choice that is made regarding us.” This is fucking torture, but the expectant lift of her eyebrows tells me she is waiting for more. Fuck me. This isn't going to end until she's damn good and ready. “Even if it kills me, I will give you as much space as I feel is necessary while maintaining your safety,” I stress the words so she'll understand.
“It was not safe for you to go off on your own without telling anyone in the house your plans. There will always be parts of my work and world that I have to keep from you. It's not because I don't trust you, but because the less you know, the more protected you are. There are a lot of moving pieces in motion right now, and I can't have you getting caught in the middle of it all. Go where you want, but for God's sake, take someone with you. Someone who knows how to use a gun and can protect you. That's all I ask. I'm trying to meet you halfway, but I can't do that if you don't do the same.”
She purses her lips but eventually nods. “I understand, and from now on, I'll make sure somebody's with me. I don't want to take any chances, and I appreciate you letting me know things are still dicey.” Dicey is hardly the word for it. Regardless, I don't want to increase her stress. I won't get anything out of scaring her; she's been through enough because of me.
“Thank you for that. That will give me peace of mind.”
“And in return...?”
This is the woman I love. This is the woman I plan to make a life with. She's carrying my child. She is the last person I need to alienate. No matter how it makes me grind my teeth when she looks at me the way she is now, I know there's no denying my next sentence.
“In return, I'll run things past you before I make any major decisions. I'll trust you.”
She doesn't flinch or lash out when I move closer, which I take as a good sign. Eventually, I'm close enough to crouch beside Jessica's headstone, putting me at eye level with her daughter. “I think that's what I need you to understand now more than nearly anything. For years, I haven't been able to trust anyone. There I was, with the best prize I could ever receive: you. Somehow I still couldn't trust that you would stay, and I was so desperate to hold on to you, and I did something I shouldn't have.”
“You violated my trust.” The quivering of her chin makes me want to look away, but I can't. I won't. I deserve to witness this.
“I did. And it was wrong. Still, I'm never going to change the man that I am at my core. I'm going to always want things my way. I will be impatient much of the time, and there will still be instances when I jump at the chance to do what I think is best. I'll act on impulse, but it will only ever be out of love.”
My fingers itch to touch her, to trace her features, and hold her in my arms. It's been too long since I indulged in the almost unnatural softness of her skin.
Reaching out, I stroke her cheek. She doesn't flinch or stiffen, and I let myself go further, tracing the line of her jaw. “I love you, Bianca, and that's why I'm going to work like hell to give you everything you need. I only need you to understand that you can't ask me to change who I am.”
“I don't want you to change,” she whispers before a fresh tear hits my fingers. “I love you the way you are now, even though you drive me crazy and make me doubt everything I thought I knew about myself. I love your craziness, your obsession, and your need to be near me.”
Her gaze drifts back to the headstone, and her brow furrowing leaves no question of her feelings. “I wish you could've known her.”
“I do, too. She sounded like a good woman. I haven't known many in my life.” I crane my neck to see what's etched on the gray stone.
Jessica Cole. Beloved wife and mother. Gone too soon.
Isn't that the truth?
“Mrs. Cole,” I murmur before chuckling to myself. “It would be too awkward to call a woman my age by her last name, so Jessica. There's something I want you to know.”
“What are you doing?” Bianca whispers curiously.
“You have a smart, beautiful, loving daughter. I know she must have gotten most of that from you–no offense to your husband.” Bianca snickers softly at this. “She's shown me the sort of happiness I didn't think was possible for a man like myself. She's helped me become a better person and makes me want to work hard to become the sort of man she needs.”
Glancing at Bianca, I add, “There's a question I want to ask her, but I thought I'd ask you first.”
“Okay, what are you actually doing?” she asks again, standing and brushing off her knees.
I stand, too, gazing down at the headstone representing the life of a woman who was cruelly taken from the people who loved her most. People who still love her. “Jessica, I want to marry your daughter. May I please have your blessing?”
“Callum,” Bianca's choked whisper drags my attention back to her. I hold her upright when I do, snaking an arm around her waist. For a second there, she looked like she was ready to drop to the ground.
“I mean it.” I pull her closer, savoring her warmth, sweetness, and the way she trembles against me. “I want you to be my wife and carry my last name. I want our child to know their parents are devoted to each other–our baby deserves that.”
“This is a lot,” she whispers with a shaky giggle. “Do you really mean it? For real?”
“Do you think this is all a game? I've known all along I was going to marry you. You were meant to be my wife, and there's nothing I want more in this world than to spend the rest of my life loving you. All I need is a single word from you.”
Her gaze narrows as she eyes me wearily. “This isn't your way of getting me to stop being mad and hurt, is it?”
“No. Not even close. I have other ways of doing that.”
